Making Memories
by Brown Eyes Parker
Summary: Mashburn proposes to Lisbon, she asks Jane for a reason not to marry him. When Jane tells her to marry him, will all they have is a lifetime of memories? Or will Lisbon listen to Jane at all? Based on " You Want to  Make a Memory" by Bon Jovi.


Making Memories A Jane & Lisbon Story  
>By Brown Eyes Parker<p><span><strong>Summary:<strong>

**Mashburn proposes to Lisbon, she asks Jane for a reason **_**not**_** to marry him. When Jane tells her to marry him, will all they have is a lifetime of memories? Or will Lisbon listen to Jane at all? Based on "(You Want to) Make a Memory" by Bon Jovi.**

**Author's Note:**

This was going to be part of a series of fan fictions based on songs in my playlist for a certain somebody in my life.

Dedicated to:

A certain someone. . . _How's your life? It's been a while, gosh it's good to see you smile. . ._

To Laura (Jisbon4ever) my friend. . . who has prescribed songs for me these past couple of weeks, and just been there when I needed somebody to unload my confusion on. . . thank you

**.**

I dug up this old photograph

_Look at all the hair we had_

_It's bittersweet to hear you laugh_

_Your phone is ringing, I don't wanna ask_

_If you go now, I'll understand_

_If you stay, hey I got a plan_

_You wanna make a memory?_

_You wanna steal a piece of time?_

_You can sing the melody to me, and I can write a couple lines_

_You wanna make a memory?_

"**(You Wanna) Make a Memory?", Bon Jovi_**

**Early Summer, 2012**

"Do you want to do something tonight?" Jane asked, poking his head into Lisbon's office.

Lisbon turned around, dressed in a little black dress and red lipstick, attire that said she had a date for the night. "Oh. . . Jane, I'm sorry. . . if it was any other night, I would say yes. But—"

"Walter?" Jane asked.

"I'm sorry," she repeated, slipping into a pair of black heels.

"It's fine," he assured her, fighting off a wave of disappointment. "I'll see if Cho wants to go and see a movie, or Rigsby. Maybe I'll take Van Pelt. . . she hasn't been out with anybody since O 'Laughlin."

"We'll have lunch tomorrow," she promised. "Or we'll go and see a movie on Sunday. Does that sound good to you?"

"Only if Mashburn doesn't mind," Jane muttered. Lisbon patted him on the shoulder as she passed and he caught her perfume, a whisper of _Chanel No. 5_. He turned around and forced a smile. "Try and enjoy yourself."

"You too," Lisbon said, returning his smile (but unlike his, her's was the real deal.)

Jane sighed when she left and made his way back to the bullpen, his shoulders slumped.

Van Pelt smiled at him encouragingly. "You should just tell her."

"No. . . I couldn't do that to her," Jane disagreed. "I've caused her enough grief already. . . and she's happy with him. I don't want to cause her anymore unhappiness."

"You should at least give her a choice. . ."

"Do you want to go and see a movie?" Jane asked. "My treat?"

Van Pelt smiled. "Okay. I just have to shut down my computer, and then we can go. Do you mind if I ask Rigsby if he wants to come?"

"Of course not," Jane said. "Why would I?"

She smiled at him, shut down her computer, and hurried off to talk to Rigsby.

**.**

"Jane," Lisbon said the next morning, fiddling with something on her left hand. "I need to talk to you. . ."

"Okay," Jane replied, throwing his newspaper aside.

"Walter proposed. . . last night."

He looked confused. "Why are you telling me this?"

"Because, I guess I want you to give me your blessing," she answered. "Or I want you to ask me to stay here with you, and then take me into your arms and kiss me senseless. Give me a reason not to marry him."

"Marry him," Jane whispered.

"Marry him?" Lisbon repeated.

"Yes," Jane said. "Marry him."

Lisbon stopped twisting her ring and nodded, turning to go back to her office. "Okay."

"Lisbon. . ." He stood up, hurried towards, and grabbed her by the sleeve. "It's not that I don't want to do those things. . . tell you to stay, and then kiss you. It's just. . . I'm not right for you. I'm scarred and jaded, you wouldn't be getting somebody completely whole. And last year, I killed a man. You don't need to live with ghosts and demons, I would never wish that on you."

She twisted around and looked at him through narrowed eyes, trying to fight the tears off. "You were acquitted for that though. . . the jury, the judge. . . all the cops, they agreed. You did them a favor. You're a hero in the eyes of California. I don't blame you either. . . not anymore."

Jane's heart stopped pounding, he had waited twelve months to hear Lisbon say these things to him. And now that they were hanging in the air, he knew it should be a little easier to do the things that she wanted. But he couldn't bring himself to do it. He dropped her arm, and hung his head.

"I understand," Lisbon said, her heart dying just a little bit. "Thank you. . . thank you for doing what you think the right thing is."

"Lisbon. . . I—"

"Jane, I want you to do something for me," she said, turning away from him, so he wouldn't see the tears welling up in her eyes.

"Anything," he promised.

"I want you to go to LaRouche and resign. You always said that when Red John was gone, you were leaving. And it's been three-hundred-and-eighty days since you killed him. I think it's time." Lisbon sniffed. "And after you resign, I never want to see your face again. . . I never want to hear your voice again, or your name mentioned. I want to forget you, and that you ever existed. Would you do that for me?"

"You don't mean that."

"Yes, yes I do. . . I've been living with your ghosts and demons long enough. And since you don't want that for me, I prefer that I cut you off completely."

Jane nodded. "All I want for you is to be happy. I'll do it."

"Thank you." She turned around, tears glistening in her eyes. "And thank you for everything you've done. It's been a good eight years."

Jane looked at a loss for words, and then he shook his head. "You shouldn't be thanking me. . .I need to be thanking you. . . thank you for everything that you did for me. Without you, I would have never survived."

Lisbon smiled sadly, at a loss for words. "Goodbye Jane."

"Goodbye," Jane answered, hating the sound of the words. . . hating the finality of it all. He wished he could do exactly what Lisbon wanted. Tell her to say no to Mashburn, tell her to stay, and then kiss her senseless. But he knew. . . he knew in the long run, he was the best thing for her.

Walter Mashburn could offer her things he could never offer her.

**.**

Winter 2012

It was seven months later when he saw her again. Van Pelt, Rigsby, Cho, and Elise had taken him out to dinner for his birthday at a really nice restaurant. She was surrounded by Walter, and a multitude of his wealthy friends and their wives. She was decked out in an expensive dress, and the best jewelry money could buy. Jane couldn't take his eyes off her.

She caught him staring at her, and offered him a sad smile, then she turned her attention back to Walter and her glass of wine. He couldn't take it anymore, seven months without her was seven months too long.

And then, fate stepped in. Walter got a phone call, after he hung up, he leaned over and kissed Lisbon on the cheek, then was gone. After the host left, the party pretty much cleared out. Then Cho and Elise had to leave, because they had a new baby at home and a baby-sitter with a curfew. Van Pelt got a migraine, and Rigsby offered to drive her home.

So, Lisbon and Jane were left alone at their prospective tables. Lisbon was reaching for her keys, and glancing over at Jane. . . begging him to come over and give her a reason to stay. He knew that it was now or never, he had to talk to her. . . one last time.

He threw caution to the wind, and got up. The path over to her was excruciating, every step was long and heavy as he went over a list of reasons in his head _not _to go see her.

"Hello again," she said when he was just inches away. "It's been a while."

"It has," Jane answered, not missing a beat.

"Sit down," she ordered, signaling the waiter to bring a new glass over.

Jane sat, and Lisbon poured him a glass of wine. She smiled at him as she handed the glass to him. He took a sip and took a long hard look at her. He laughed lamely. "It's good to see you smile again."

Lisbon blushed. "How's life?"

"I started a private detective agency," Jane answered.

She smiled. "Van Pelt told me, I was so proud of you when I heard. How's business?"

"I have a lot of wives coming to me," he replied. "They're all so sure their husbands are having affairs, and they want me to prove it."

"Are they?"

"Just fifty-percent," Jane answered. "How about you?"

"I'm not working at the CBI anymore."

"Rigsby and Cho told me."

"A lot of work goes into planning the wedding of the year," Lisbon said, swirling her wine around in her glass.

"Did you forget about me?" Jane asked softly.

"I tried," Lisbon answered. "But I couldn't."

"You have something on your mind," he said, not caring about how lame it sounded.

She took a long sip of wine. "You could always read me, couldn't you?"

Jane shrugged. "You don't have to tell me what you're thinking. . . I understand."

"I never expected you to really leave," Lisbon finally said. "You never quit on anything before—"

Her phone rang, and she stopped talking, picking it up to see who was calling. Jane could tell by the look on her face that it was Walter.

"You have to take it," Jane said.

"Just wait a second," Lisbon answered. "Walter? Paris, _tonight_? But the wedding is in four days. Yes, I understand. . . no, I should just stay here. . . I have last minute details to catch up on. I'll see you in two days then. Okay. Goodbye."

"Lisbon," Jane said quietly.

"That was Walter," Lisbon said. "I mean, go figure that he'd have to go to Paris on business four days before the wedding."

"I need to talk to you. . . I've had something I've needed to say for seven months," Jane continued. "It's now or never, because in four days you won't be Teresa Lisbon anymore, you'll be Teresa Mashburn."

Lisbon's breath caught in her throat, and she knew what was coming next. She stood up and reached for her coat. "Jane we can't do this."

"I know we shouldn't do this, but we _have _to do it." He stood to and took her by the hands. "I do love you, it's all I've ever thought about every single day since I walked out of your life. And I want you to stay with me. . . forever."

Tears welled up in Lisbon's eyes, and she dropped her coat back on the chair. "Dance with me. . . just one more time. Please."

Jane took her shaking hand and led her to the dance floor, where three other couples were dancing. He pulled her close, and breathed her in. . . making a memory, and cataloging her away for a rainy day. For the day when she would be Teresa Mashburn, and he would be missing her with everything in him.

Half-way through the song, she pulled away, and looked up at him, tears falling from her Emerald green eyes, smearing her mascara and running tracks through her blush. She reached up a hand and traced his lips. "I. . . I never stopped loving you."

It was too much for Jane to take, so he pulled her closer and did something he should have done a long time ago, he touched his lips to her's and kissed her senseless.

She pulled away, shaking from head-to-toe. "I-I-I have to go. Goodbye Jane."

Jane watched her run away from him, feeling like he was watching his whole world leave him for the last time.

**.**

Valentine's Day 2013

"I'll check back with you in three days Mrs. Paloskie," Jane said, leading the elegant looking woman out of his office. "If he's cheating, I'll be able to tell."

"Thank you Mr. Jane," Mrs. Paloskie said, pulling out a handkerchief from her purse and dabbing at her eyes.

Jane patted her on the shoulder encouragingly and showed her to the door. He waited until she was gone, and then started his preparations to close down for the night. He was fixing a pile of _Cosmopolitan _when the bell above the door rang.

"Sorry," he said, not taking his eyes off his work. "But we're closed for the evening. Could you come back tomorrow maybe?"

"Jane. . ."

He looked up, his breath catching in his throat. Lisbon was standing in the middle of his office, she was dressed in work clothes, and she was smiling. . . at him. The first thing he did was look at her ringer finger, it was bare.

"You didn't marry him. . ."

"I couldn't," Lisbon said. "You, who know me better than anybody should know that. You should know I couldn't when my heart always belonged to somebody else."

"You cut your hair."

"Do you like it?" Lisbon asked, smiling at him. "I did it because you were always telling me to cut it because of my cheek-bones—"

"I love it, I love everything about you," Jane answered, dropping the magazine he was holding and coming over to her. He reached out his hand and traced her face, making sure that she was real and not a dream. "I missed you."

"I missed you too," Lisbon replied in a low voice.

"I love you," he said, resting his forehead against her's.

She closed her eyes. "I love you too."

And then, he kissed her senseless, knowing this was the place they should be. . . making memories for the thousand tomorrow's that he would share with her.

**_The End_**

**Why "(You Want to) Make a Memory"?:**

**When I hear this song, it leaves me absolutely breathless. . . it's everything I wish I could say to him, and more.**

**Holly, June 10, 2011_**


End file.
